


Diva Season

by rymyanna



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banter, M/M, Manipulation, Touch-Starved, Unresolved Sexual Tension, World Domination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22175284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rymyanna/pseuds/rymyanna
Summary: The bad guys win AU. A series of short scenes focused on Viren and Aaravos ruling and experiencing some UST (it’s a bad time for our heroes but an okay time for these two, depending on how you look at it)
Relationships: Aaravos & Viren (The Dragon Prince), Aaravos/Viren (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 171





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't what I wanted to happen and it's also not as fluffy and wholesome as my other viravos fics. The darker stuff is mostly hinted at but it's still going on, in the background.

The war didn’t end with the defeat of the Sunfire elves, but after the death of Queen Zubeia, it was only a matter of time. The human kingdoms, apart from Duren, had formed an alliance that worked towards a common goal: the good of humanity. 

The self-appointed King of Katolis stood over the world map in the throne room, accompanied by his advisor and best ally. Aaravos didn’t hold an official title, as far as the subjects knew, but King Viren was rarely seen without him. 

“Claudia reports that Moonshadow elves are attacking the troops and their supply stores at night,” Viren said, leaning on the map. “And despite her best efforts, she hasn’t been able to locate their base of operations.”

“It’s most likely hidden by a powerful illusion.” Aaravos looked at the map over Viren’s shoulder. 

Viren hummed in agreement. “She has no shortage of magical items, it’s only a matter of time before she discovers a way to break it.” 

“So things are going well for us,” Aaravos pointed out, and with a teasing lilt to his voice, spoke into Viren’s ear, “And yet you frown, my king.”

Viren shrugged him away, used to both the proximity and the teasing. It had been going on since Aaravos had crawled out of the cocoon. Aaravos was the only one allowed to address him king in such a tone, like it was a pet name more than a title. 

“War is hardly the time for levity.” Viren glared at the map for a moment longer before turning to face Aaravos. “You could go help her.” 

“I have unfinished business here.”

“Such as?”

Aaravos smiled. “The castle is full of snakes.”

In response to the cryptic words, Viren raised an eyebrow. “Are you concerned that when the king snake’s away, the smaller ones will come out to play?” He might have come to trust Aaravos, despite what his better sense was telling him, but he wasn’t a fool. 

Without a hint of anger or guilt at the accusation, Aaravos’ smile widened, his eyelids heavy. “I do love your wit.” He reached out to touch Viren’s brooch. “Let me write to her instead,” he suggested. “To advise her.” 

“Do as you see fit,” Viren allowed, without shying away. He tensed in anticipation, but he wasn’t sure of what. “Just do it soon.”

Aaravos lingered for a few more seconds before backing off to leave the room.

* * *

Aaravos was there, leaning on the throne while Viren listened to the woes of his people. The people had been leery of the elf at first, but he had been interested in their issues and in some ways more lenient than their king. The smartest of them quickly realized that he had Viren’s ear.

“But my king, they have children,” Aaravos said, smiling like he was enjoying listening to the worries of the common folk. He looked down at the mother who had directed her passionate plea mostly at him. “How many, did you say?”

“Six, your- uh, sir,” she replied. 

“Six,” he repeated to Viren and planted himself on the arm of the throne, sideways to better lean over. He ignored Viren’s annoyed glance.

“The war effort needs supplies,” Viren argued.

“Replenishing the crops would be easy with the Sunfire staff.”

“Claudia has it.”

“And she has asked for leave.” 

“I’m not summoning her back for six people.” 

“This isn’t the only family concerned about low food stores,” Aaravos reminded him.

Viren sighed, knowing that Aaravos was right. It’d be hard to deal with a revolt in the home front while battles raged on in Xadia. 

He addressed the woman and the room in general, “We will handle your food related concerns once my daughter gets back from the front,” he declared. “I trust you won’t starve if you wait a week.”

A flash of anger passed the woman’s face at the stab before she controlled herself. “We won’t, your majesty. Thank you.” 

“I will see to this personally,” Aaravos told Viren. Most of the people were leaving and Viren shifted on the throne to better look up at him.

“I’m sure they’ll love you for it.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with trivial matters yourself,” Aaravos replied and grinned. “And you know how much I adore charity work.” 

Viren huffed. “It’s the praise you adore.” 

“Well, I do so rarely get any from you.”

“What praiseworthy have you done lately?”

“I exist every day.”

“So does everyone else,” Viren pointed out. 

“Not as me.” 

“I suppose I should congratulate you on being uniquely obnoxious.”

Aaravos looked delighted with the exchange. “I didn’t even realize how much I missed this before I met you.”

“Being insulted?” Viren asked, leaning against the armrest behind him, more relaxed now that there were only a couple council members on the other side of the room. 

“You know I don’t take it to heart.” Aaravos turned a bit more so Viren was easier to address. “I missed having an intelligent conversational partner.”

Smirking, Viren asked, “Talking to yourself didn’t quite cut it, then?”

Aaravos laughed. It was a rich and carefree sound Viren found himself enjoying. “You indulge me, my king.” Both his voice and expression were warm.

Viren returned his smile with a more guarded one of his own. “You’re not awful to talk to, yourself.”

“What high praise.”

“I think the actual positive reinforcement is that I continue to talk to you.”

“Ah, so you’re the type to show your appreciation rather than voice it,” Aaravos summarized. “I shall remain vigilant.”

“Not telling you to get lost is hardly subtle.”

“True, I’ve been a fool to not see it.” 

Viren’s reply was interrupted by the council member approaching. “Excuse me, my king, archmage,” he opened with. “Shouldn’t we start the afternoon meeting?” It snapped Viren out of their private little world to see the other members looking on curiously from across the room. He straightened himself out. 

“Yes, you’re right. Let’s begin.” 

* * *

Viren was going over some correspondence one night. The last time he had looked up from his work, Aaravos had been standing by the fireplace, staring into the flames. This time, he found the elf by his desk, eyes moving over the papers before settling on Viren.

“Trouble with your neighbor?” Aaravos asked.

Viren leaned back on his chair with a sigh. “It’s likely that that’s where the princes are hiding, along with my-” he paused. “Along with the former captain of the crown guard.” His desk was a mess so he took a moment to straighten it out. “The queen refuses to cooperate.” 

“What do you want done to them?”

“They’re traitors, let them rot in the dungeon with Opeli and the rest.” Execution was an option, but that’d mean the same fate for Soren. 

Aaravos rounded the table as Viren begun to write. Stopping a breath away, he peered at the letter.

“You’ve found someone like minded.”

“Unsurprisingly,” Viren said, dipping his pen in the inkwell. “It’s not hard to find people who agree that a child is unfit to rule a kingdom.” 

He finished the letter before turning towards Aaravos. Their faces were close and the freckle-like stars were more apparent than ever in the dim light of the room. Curious, Viren lifted his hand to touch them. He had spent days wondering if they affected the texture of the skin. The answer was that they didn’t, though the brighter ones under Aaravos’ eye were warmer to the touch. Viren only noticed that Aaravos had stopped breathing when the elf drew a shaky breath. 

Viren retracted his hand. “Sorry,” he said when Aaravos just stood frozen in place. “That was inappropriate.” 

“No,” Aaravos managed, moving again, his face serious. “Don’t apologize.” He took Viren’s hand and pressed his face against the palm. Closing his eyes, he let out a sigh at the contact. 

Viren stared at the elf nuzzling his hand, his mouth slightly open in awe. His face was growing warm. “Ah, um,” was his witty rejoinder. 

“It’s been centuries,” Aaravos murmured in a way of explanation to this sudden, near desperate affection. Without knowing how to react, Viren supposed he had gotten his wish; touching Aaravos. He couldn’t say that it was unpleasant. 

“Hold me,” Aaravos whispered to Viren’s hand, breath hot. The hair on Viren’s arms stood on end.

“Alright,” he agreed, getting up from the chair for a more optimal hugging position. “Come here then.” Aaravos freed his hand and pressed against him as Viren opened his arms. He felt a little awkward. It had been a while since his last hug. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was encouraging this but couldn’t deny that he was getting something out of it, too. Physical affection is physical affection and Aaravos was warm and solid. 

It was a long hug. Viren held Aaravos’ back, mindful where he placed his hands on top the thin clothing. He could feel Aaravos’ shoulder blades move as the elf petted his back in slow strokes. The breath hitting the crook of his neck didn’t help his blush. 

“Just uh, let me know when you’ve had enough,” Viren said.

“We’ll be here a while, in that case.”

“How long is ‘a while’?”

“Years,” Aaravos said, letting his hand fall to the small of Viren back to press him even closer.

Viren had trouble with forming a response, but once he managed, he said, “You’ve had this body for weeks, you could have sought someone out.” 

“I have been busy, cultivating our friendship,” Aaravos explained, accompanied with another content sigh.

“Is that was this is?” Viren mused out loud, daring to move his hand to comb his fingers through Aaravos’ hair.

“Aren’t I your little bug pal?” Aaravos teased.

Viren frowned at the reminder. “Never refer to yourself as that in public.”

“But it is accurate.” 

“I wouldn’t call you little.” It was more obvious now than ever, in how he enveloped Viren, that he was broader and taller. “And you don’t look that much like an insect.”

“Your pal.” 

Viren sighed. “Sure.” He gave his pal’s back a pat. “I’m ready to let go now.”

“It hasn’t been years yet,” Aaravos pointed out.

“I have things to do.” 

After a moment and one last squeeze, Aaravos let go, touching his cheek to Viren’s along the way. They held eye contact for what felt like a long time. It never occurred to Viren anymore to think that Aaravos’ eyes were strange: he looked into them every day and the stark contrast had grown familiar. 

Aaravos dipped his head as he stepped back. “I think I’ll retire for the night,” he said. “I’ll see you at breakfast.” 

“Good night,” Viren replied, voice gone soft.

“Good night.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the response to this so far! Have the second chapter.

Claudia came home tired. There was more white in her hair and she only loosened her grip on the Sunfire staff when coaxed by her father. Her eyes were older than her years.

Aaravos used the staff to replenish the crops and the common folk was appeased. Viren and Claudia accompanied him, made a ceremony out of it. The royal family and their strange elven ally.

Viren watched impressed as the crops regrew in front of his eyes. He placed his hand on Aaravos’ shoulder, gave it a squeeze, and watched the elf relax and lean into it. Touch was the easiest way to make him less obnoxious.

Claudia side-eyed them throughout the ceremony. She didn’t say anything until later, when they were having a private dinner in their rooms. 

“So, how have you been?” she asked, looking between them and drawing out her words like she was trying to imbue them with some special meaning.

“Busy,” replied Viren. “Now that you’re here, I want you at the council meetings. You’ll be queen someday, you’ll need to know how to act.” 

She made a face. “I’m not talking about work. I just got here.” She ate a couple more bites. “Has there been any developments I should know about?” 

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about work.”

“I don’t.” She stared at her father while motioning with her eyebrows before giving up and addressing Aaravos. “You,” she said. “You know what I’m talking about, right?” 

The corner of his mouth ticked up in a yes. “Why don’t you spell it out for us?”

Viren put a calming hand on Aaravos’ wrist. They sat close enough for him to do so without effort. 

Claudia pointed a fork at the gesture. “This. This is what I’m talking about,” she declared, almost jumping up from her seat. “Do I have to call him ‘dad’ now, too?”

“Why would you?” Viren asked, his forefinger drawing a lazy circle inside Aaravos’ wrist. When he looked at the elf, he gave Viren a slow smile and a raised eyebrow. 

“Oh, no. No,” Viren denied everything. 

“Double negative!” Claudia shouted, pointing harder. “That’s a yes.”

“That’s not how that works.”

“You’re so lively, Claudia,” Aaravos said. “Aren’t you tired from the trip?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You just want me gone so you can be alone with dad.”

“You are bright as ever.”

“Ugh, I wish you’d never stopped being a worm,” she said.

“Stop it, both of you,” Viren stepped in. “You don’t need to worry about Aaravos and I, Claudia.” 

“Whatever you say.” She didn’t look convinced. “I’m going to bed.” She left, her meal uneaten. 

Viren covered his eyes with a hand to give himself a moment. Then, he spoke to Aaravos, “You need to stop antagonizing her. We’re all on the same side.”

Aaravos twisted his hand so he could hold Viren’s. “You’re right, of course. I shouldn’t do it just because it’s so easy.” 

“And because she needs to at least tolerate you,” Viren reminded him.

“It shouldn’t be hard to make her like me once I turn on the charm.” 

Viren gave him a tired look instead of returning the grin. “Just be nice to her, please.”

“I will make an effort.” Maintaining eye contact, Aaravos brought their joined hands to his face, touching his cheek with Viren’s knuckles. 

The gesture left Viren flustered. Aaravos’ cheek was warm and smooth, pleasant under the rougher texture of his hand. In their more intimate moments, Viren could see where Claudia was coming from.

* * *

The mirror had been moved to a new secret location within the castle. Aaravos spent days with it, studying the mirror and setting up wards. It was a painstaking process Viren was all too familiar with, though he suspected Aaravos did it with more skill than he could dream of.

The wards let Viren through.

Aaravos sat in a chair in front of his prison, the surface of it reflective. As Viren came to stand by him, the scene hit him with some twisted nostalgia. He placed his hand on the backrest of the chair. If he moved his fingers just so, he could brush against Aaravos’ horns and hair. He was tempted.

“I’m allowed in here, then,” Viren said, looking at them in the mirror. He could see in the reflection how Aaravos’ eyes flicked over to him.

“Of course. You have access to anything within the castle.” The smile bordered on innocent but the tone didn’t. When Viren didn’t comment, Aaravos continued, “It is strange. I spent such a long time loathing it, but now I’m in here, trying to ensure it’s safety.” 

“Well, it is more of a backup, now that you have a body out here, too.” Viren gave in and ran a finger tip over a length of horn. “It’d add to the irony, if you were doing this at the Storm Spire.”

“It would,” Aaravos agreed, slumping on his seat, giving Viren easier access. 

“Do you want it?” Viren asked, a small smile tugging on his lips at the reaction.

Aaravos’ ears perked up. “Isn’t it of tactical importance?” 

“So are you.” Viren took his hand away to watch Aaravos sit up again and twist his neck to look up at him. “And I am uncertain what you want out of our alliance.”

“What’s a bit of revenge and my freedom next to a spot of land,” Aaravos said, smirking.

Viren glanced away. “Yes, well.”

“But I do like the idea, of having the home of the archdragon to do with as I please,” he mused, smile spreading. “I accept your generous offer, my king.” His eyes dipped lower before meeting Viren’s again. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Viren cleared his throat, flustered by the implications he was probably imagining. “Join me for lunch, you’ve been cooped up in here for days.”

“I’d love to.”

* * *

They were having a meeting. Viren listened with a half an ear, sitting on the throne, as a council member talked about supply routes. Claudia had left earlier, claiming stomach trouble.

On any other day, he’d pay more attention, but that day Aaravos was wearing his hair up. He was standing on one of the stairs of the dais, to the left of Viren. A couple strands had escaped the bun and were hanging loose.

Viren’s eyes kept wandering to the strands, to the nape of the neck. He had given up on paying attention to the meeting. Aaravos was listening to the council without noticing Viren’s bordering-on-creepy staring. As things were, he could get up and touch, like he wanted, and none of the council members would dare say anything. He could tell everyone else to leave and have a moment alone with Aaravos. But he needed to conduct himself in a respectable manner. It wouldn’t do for a king to follow his whims. 

He squeezed the armrests of the throne harder. 

The council member who had been talking stopped and looked at Viren expectantly. Viren had no idea if he had been asked a question. 

“Excuse me, I need to check something with my associate,” he said, getting up to drag Aaravos to the side, out of earshot. Once there, Viren guided him to turn around to undo the hair tie. Aaravos was surprisingly accommodating.

“I didn’t realize you had such strong feelings about hair styles,” he commented. His tone might have been smug but he still shivered when Viren gave into temptation and ran his thumb down his neck, fingers playing with a few strands before he got the hair to fall down. 

“Keep your hair down during official meetings,” Viren ordered.

Aaravos looked at him over a shoulder. “What about unofficial?” he asked, and Viren knew he’d figured out the “issue”. 

“I’m not about to tell you how to present yourself on your down time.” Viren wanted to see it again, but he kept that want to himself. 

“I’ll do as I please, then.” 

“You do anyway.” 

“Yes, but I take requests.”

With the excuse of straightening it out, Viren was still touching the hair. He paused what he was doing. The possibilities were intriguing. He allowed himself to consider them, ranging from the relatively innocent to far less pure. 

“I’d like for you to tell me what the council wants my input on.” Viren’s voice shook before he cleared his throat and got a hold of himself. “Something about routes?” 

Aaravos’ shoulders shook in silent laughter. “You should try getting less distracted.” 

“Yes, I know,” Viren said with a roll of his eyes. “Well?”

Aaravos filled him in. It was boring minutiae. 

“How do you feel about braids?” Aaravos asked when they started to make their way back towards the throne.

“I have no opinion.”

“I’ll gladly help you form one.” He was close, whispering distance. 

Viren tried not to react and walked faster.

“I have a fun constellation back there, did you notice?”

Viren had. “I really didn’t look that closely.” 

Aaravos hummed like he didn’t believe him. “You can pay as close attention as you like.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Viren answer on automatic, feeling dumb and out of focus again. Supply routes. He needed to sit down, good thing the throne was right there.

With a final smug smirk and a wink thrown Viren’s way, Aaravos took his place by him. Viren thought very hard about supplies and their routes, instead of stars and warm skin.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the final chapter! I had a good time writing this, sorry about the ust.

Viren had thought that maybe the hair related hints and questions had been a joke. That Aaravos had been trying to get a rise out of him. His assumptions were proven false later in the week when Aaravos invited himself into Viren’s rooms, like he often did, but this time he came with an assortment of hair ties and pins. He sat on Viren’s bed and patted the spot next to him.

“Come, sit,” he said, smiling at Viren’s baffled expression.

“Are you serious?” Viren asked. Aaravos patted the bed again, this time with more force. Viren went over and sat. 

“Now.” Aaravos looked pleased. “Did you have something specific in mind?”

“I wasn’t even sure if you were joking or not,” Viren admitted. 

“Why is that?”

“Well, for one, you’re always, sort of,” he paused to choose his words, “Flirty with me, and I don’t think you mean anything by it, so why would you this time?” If he was honest with himself, he didn’t know if he wanted Aaravos to be interested. He didn’t not want it, but he was perfectly capable of dealing with his own budding attraction, one-sided. 

Aaravos’ smile fell, replaced with a look that asked ‘Are you some kind of an idiot?’. Viren wasn’t sure what he’d said to earn it. 

“What?” He leaned away a little. 

“I suppose there’s no need to worry about it right now,” was Aaravos’ non-answer. “Why don’t you get more comfortable and think about what you want to do?” It was posed as a question but it rang more like an order. Despite the late hour, Viren was wearing his full outfit, crown and all. He guessed that since this was more of a casual meeting, he could remove some of it.

Viren got up so he could place his robe on the back of a chair. He lowered the crown onto the seat, and then, he was just a man in his undershirt and trousers. When he went back to Aaravos, he noticed the elf was watching him. Something about the stare made him feel flustered. 

“Uh, so, I used to help Claudia with her hair when she was little, but I don’t really know what I’m meant to be doing, here,” Viren said.

“This is just an excuse to have you fawn over me and play with my hair, so it doesn’t really matter,” Aaravos stated. The straightforward admission took Viren by surprise. 

“Oh,” he said, like a smart person. “Um, well then.” He could definitely do at least one of those things. “I don’t fawn over you,” he argued.

In response, Aaravos raised an eyebrow at him before handing him the box of hair ties and turning so his back faced Viren. “There’s a comb in there, too. Watch the horns.” 

Viren gave his back a half-hearted glare. He found the comb, and after a moment of hesitation, parted some of the hair to work on and got to it. The softness of the strands and the repetitive motion lulled him into a relaxed state without him even realizing. 

“I have been making an effort with Claudia, like you asked,” Aaravos said, after a while. “I wouldn’t say that we’re the best of friends, but I think she’s warming up to me.” 

“It’s good that you’re at least trying,” Viren commented, more focused on what he was doing than the discussion. 

“I understand why she’s wary. She didn’t even know I existed until I clawed my way out of a cocoon and started acting all chummy with her father.” Aaravos leaned into Viren’s hands more,

“Chummy?” Viren questioned the word choice with a small smile. 

“I heard a guard use that word, I’m not sure if I should make it a part of my vocabulary.” 

“You shouldn’t.”

“As you say, my king.”

Viren could hear the grin in Aaravos’ voice. “You could just call me by my name when we’re alone.” Peering over Aaravos’ shoulder, he could see that the elf had his eyes closed. “You used to.”

“I guess I fell out of the habit.”

“Well, get back into it,” Viren said, feeling less ornery than he sounded. “If we’re such good pals and chums, we should be on a first name basis.” 

“Viren,” Aaravos said. “I think my hair is untangled enough.” 

He had been at it for quite some time. “I think you’d look absolutely precious with pigtails.”

“As I do without.”

Without thinking too hard about it, Viren headbutted him, forehead to the back of his head, gently. He froze when he realized what he was doing, head against Aaravos’. Their interactions regularly bordered on too friendly to just be friendly, and this was one of those times. 

Viren sat back with the excuse of looking through the box of hair accessories. He wasn’t living through some great romance, but a time of political upheaval where he didn’t know who to trust and how far.

“I,” he started, fiddling with a ribbon. The hair ties in the box were in browns, grays, and reds. They didn’t seem like Aaravos kind of colors. “I’m tired,” he made his excuse. “I think we could both use some sleep before tomorrow.” 

Aaravos turned on the bed, to face Viren. “What about my pigtails?” It wasn’t a serious question, and Viren had a feeling Aaravos saw through his excuses.

“I guess, quick ones?” Viren gave in, once again. Careful, he parted the hair and tied it in two. It was a little uneven.

“Am I precious yet?” Aaravos asked.

“Absolutely,” Viren breathed. He kept his hands to himself and watched Aaravos leave. 

* * *

One evening, Claudia came knocking on his door. It was late and Viren was wrapping up his tasks for the day, about to turn in for the night. He could spare a moment for his daughter.

She came in, fidgety and pale. 

Viren frowned. “What is it?”

She shut the door and leaned on it. “Is it true that you think Soren’s in Duren?” The question was careful, like she wasn’t sure she should even be interested.

“It is likely,” Viren admitted. He hadn’t talked to Claudia about Soren, or his possible whereabouts. “Where did you hear that?”

She looked away. “From the same source you hear things, I guess.”

Before Viren had a chance to reply, she pushed herself off the door to stand straight.

“I want to go to Duren,” she said.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s hostile.” He had tentative allies, but the risk of her going and never coming back was real.

“And Xadia isn’t?” Her eyes were hard and Viren knew that if he didn’t play this carefully, she’d go, with or without his permission. 

“Xadia is our priority, now,” he said, approaching her to place hands on her shoulders. “Rest here for a while longer and then, we’ll go finish this together.”

She looked like she might be giving in. “What about Duren?”

Viren gave her a smile. “We will deal with them after.”

“Deal,” she repeated in a whisper.

“Negotiate for the return of our citizens still on their soil,” he explained before she could jump into conclusions. They’d try reason first and if that didn’t work, they’d move on to other, more destructive means.

Claudia searched his face and sighed, “Fine.”

“Good.” He squeezed her shoulders. “Go get some sleep, you look exhausted.”

Her smile was strained. “You too, dad.” 

“Of course.” He let go, she left. After she closed the door behind her, Viren sat on the bed, tired but not sleepy. It felt like he still had a few more hours of worrying in him.

* * *

The balcony by the king’s rooms had bittersweet memories attached to it. Viren had chosen it because it was private. He needed a moment to clear his head; hard to do when constantly on display and accompanied. 

“Viren,” Aaravos said from somewhere near the balcony entrance, trailing in to join him. “You look troubled.” 

Viren didn’t mind this particular company as much as he should.

“I’m just getting some fresh air,” he claimed. It wasn’t wholly untrue. The forest spread before him and the wind was crisp. 

“It is important to take a moment to relax.” Aaravos was watching him, standing on his right.

They stayed like that for a while.

“Talk to me,” Aaravos requested. Viren sighed.

“It’s hard to build mutual trust, isn’t it?” he asked, still looking over Katolis. 

Aaravos agreed, “It is.” He bent at the waist enough to be on level with Viren. “You’ve surrounded yourself with people who not that long ago turned on another ruler.”

Viren glanced over at him and met Aaravos’ steady gaze. “That was different. He was too young and naive, it was the reasonable thing to do.” 

“Of course, you are far more knowledgeable on human politics than I,” Aaravos said with a dip of his head. “But it won’t hurt to be cautious.” 

“I am being cautious,” Viren argued. “I didn’t get this far by not recognizing a backstabber.” Though, he had missed a few. 

Aaravos smiled at the defensive reply. “In times such as these, it’s important to remember the people who were there for you before your more prestigious position.” 

Viren could count those people with less than one hand. It had been three fingers, now it was two. And Claudia had been talking about leaving. 

“You have done an admirable job at standing by me, so far,” Viren admitted. To better look at Aaravos, he faced away from the view. 

“Haven’t I given you exactly what you’ve wanted?” 

“You have.”

Aaravos took a step closer. “I could give you more.” The distance between them was next to nothing, if there had been any since the bloodpact. 

After wetting his lips, Viren asked, “There’s more?”

Slowly, as if Viren was easily spooked, Aaravos brought a hand up to touch his cheek. He ran his thumb over the cheek bone. “Just say the word.”

Viren raised a brow, gears turning. “Please?” They were close enough to share breath, but not close enough to brush against each other.

“Yes,” Aaravos said, almost a purr more than a word.

“Help me weed out the worst of them,” was Viren’s request, which earned him a rueful smile. Aaravos took a step back. 

“If that is what you want.”

“It is,” Viren confirmed, letting his eyes wander for a second. “For now.”

* * *

The news that Claudia was missing didn’t surprise him. He had tried talking her out of it, but she was almost a woman now and taking after him in both underhanded tactics and stubbornness.

What it came down to, was that she had gone against his explicit wishes and left him. 

In response, he sent men after her. She was too powerful to bring back by force with mere soldiers, but they could keep an eye on her. 

He threw himself into purging the castle. Everyone was vetted and spied on. Aaravos was distressingly good at finding out things people didn’t want him to know. He whispered those secrets to Viren in their private meetings. 

This time, it was Viren who went to Aaravos. The elf’s room was in the same wing as his, along the same corridor as the unoccupied rooms meant for his family. It was larger than average, but more understated than Viren’s.

The fading evening light shone through the windows. It showed the stacks of books Aaravos had amassed during his time in Katolis. Some of them were from the library, some Viren had given him. 

Viren was flipping through one of them, a history book. “It was you who told Claudia about Duren, correct?” he asked, running a finger over an illustration of a battle scene. 

“She asked me if you’d mentioned Soren and what you had said,” Aaravos explained. He had taken a seat on the bed, watching Viren pace and pretend to be occupied. “I didn’t recommend going after him, if that is what you’re really asking.” 

Lifting his eyes from the book, Viren studied him. Aaravos met his gaze. “Alright,” he acknowledged and closed the book. “As soon as we’re done flushing out the rats, we leave to join the forces in Xadia.” 

Aaravos grinned. “Ready to get your hands dirty again?” 

“The sooner we wrap things up over there, the sooner we can turn our attention on Duren.” He didn’t want to fight other humans, but if Duren stood in the way a united, peaceful continent, he had no choice. 

“As long as it’s for the good of humanity.”

Viren frowned at the flippant tone. “Do you mock me?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Aaravos said as he walked over to a shelf by the wall. He pulled out a bottle, presenting it to Viren. “Shall we drink to it?”

“This is hardly a cause for celebration.” 

“Let us drink our sorrows away, then.” After pouring two cups, Aaravos offered one to Viren. Still reluctant, Viren took it and drank. Aaravos watched him with a smile, own cup in hand.

“Where’d you get this?” Viren asked, whirling the wine around.

“A friendly kitchen maid gave it to me.”

“How friendly?” It tasted bitter, suddenly. 

“Not friendly enough to cause you any concern.” 

Viren drank some more. “I’m not concerned.” 

“Of course,” Aaravos said, unconvinced. “My loyalties lie with you.” He toasted the air and took a sip, licking a stray drop of his lip. All the while Viren watched and contemplated the situation he was in. Surrounded by traitors, with the possibility of a second war. After, if there was anything left of him, he’d have to celebrate with Aaravos like this, but with more merriment and drinking, with him more prepared to face his attraction head on.

“I’ll drink to that,” Viren said and did. “You’re perhaps the only one who can make that claim.”

“Oh Viren,” Aaravos said. He stepped closer. The light from the window painted the edges of his hair red. He touched his cup to Viren’s. “You don’t need anyone else.”

Viren moved his cup to his lips and drank. 


End file.
